


Let's Pretend

by VisionaryGalaxy



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [39]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Boys In Love, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, M/M, Short & Sweet, Sunsets, True Love, being a superhero is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-02 23:29:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16796839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionaryGalaxy/pseuds/VisionaryGalaxy
Summary: He and Tony just needed a break sometimes; from being superheroes, from the weight of the world, from the guilt. Maybe they could pretend, just for tonight.





	Let's Pretend

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, I'm procrastinating my homework again.

Stephen leaned against the doorframe to Tony’s office, the one he usually never occupied at the top of his Stark Industries building. He was bent over his desk scribbling away at the stack of papers in front of him, slipping a paper on to the bigger one next to him ever few minutes or so.

He looked…tired. Even from this vantage point Stephen could see the slump in his shoulders, the darkness beneath his eyes, could see it in his movements when he rubbed for the umpteenth time at his eye, or glanced anxiously at his phone over and over. It made Stephen’s heart break, in this moment right now he was a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders, haggard and exhausted.

These past two weeks had been hard ones, for the both of them. There had been an unfortunate influx of attacks from alien and interdimensional species leaving all the Avengers on edge, and it wasn’t until after the eighth attack and the death count at thirty-seven that Wong and Stephen realized they were coming through a portal that had formed underground. He had never felt so wretched as when he stood before the Avengers who were bruised and beaten nearly to despair and delivered the news. They were relieved to be sure, but that evening as Stephen stood vigil over Tony who had suffered three cracked ribs and a major concussion, he couldn’t help but hate himself for not figuring it out sooner.

Rest should have been on the agenda for Tony, but even at their worst, life had never been one to give them a break. There was fallout, of course there was, from the government, from the public about the loss of life, about the number of attacks. For once Stephen was relieved to see Rogers take the fall, not that Stephen didn’t step up himself as well, but that didn’t stop him from seeing a familiar dark expression slide into Tony’s eyes, or the way he would close them sometimes and take stabilizing breaths, fists clenching and unclenching in rhythm.

Then Pepper got sick, really sick. She had a bad reaction to the flu, spent two nights in the hospital and was given strict orders to go on bed rest. Tony, being the knight in shining armour he denied he was, immediately stepped up to cover for her with the company where the lackeys couldn’t, conveniently ignoring his own desperate need for a rest. Stephen brought it up the first day, hated seeing him like that but was soundly dismissed, desperation slipping onto his face and Stephen understood, after the attacks he just wanted to feel _useful_. So, he let it go, he let it all go, until now.

The truth was, since that first attack nearly two weeks ago, he had barely seen Tony. They were both too busy fighting, researching, saving people. They fell into bed each night, too exhausted to say anything but goodnight, woke in the morning only to rush off to work or the next emergency with a quick peck. They texted the usual warning and assurances when it came to the battles, they communicated while they fought and delivered information to and from but that was all. Since the attacks stopped Stephen could admit his own guilt had made him back off, let his lover have his space.

But he missed him, and that was why he was standing in the doorway watching in pained silence. He missed him so much and he was so tired of their lives and the pressure and responsibilities, and saving the world, all he wanted was tonight. He hoped it wasn’t too much to ask.

Stephen cleared his throat quietly.

Predictably, Tony’s head snapped up, startled.

Stephen smiled slightly, offered a little wave. Tony was blinking at him as though coming out of a daze, his eyes trying to focus on his figure, then slowly he leaned back and slumped in his chair, a weak turn up on the corners of his lips being the only sign he was ok that Stephen was there.

A hand ran through his dishevelled hair, “hey, how long have you been there?” Even his voice had gone horse, his tongue darting out to lick dry lips.

Stephen shrugged, waved his hand to make a glass of water appear on the desk, “not long, only a couple minutes. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Tony sipped the drink, then downed half of it quickly as he realized how thirsty he was. Grateful eyes met his, “you could never disturb me. Its just boring paperwork, don’t know why they act like the world will end if it isn’t signed right away.”

“That does seem to be typical of businessmen.”

A genuine smile lit Tony’s face, the man seemed to relax with it, tension bleeding away, “right you are, must be what I hated about the company so much.” He paused there, eyes running over Stephen and he had to work not to stiffen. “Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you here?”

His tone was sincere, but it still made Stephen’s stomach twist. He hadn’t felt this off kilter with Tony in a long time, but he knew why it was, even if he didn’t want to think about it. Tony wasn’t the only one who had a hard week, the guilt he felt at letting the Avengers down, by taking so long was absolutely nothing compared to the innocent people that died from his and Wong’s oversight. There had been a ceremony today, a shrine at the worst battle and Stephen had found himself standing in front of it for nearly five hours, mind numb and blank as he memorized the faces in the frames, the names scrawled on cards.

“I…just wanted to see you.” He was so tired of being alone.

Tony’s head tilted a little, his forehead crinkled in concern and fuck Stephen really hated that look, especially when it was directed at him, “Ok, then stop creeping in my doorway and get in here.”

Relieved, Stephen entered, had felt like he needed an invitation to come to this unfamiliar space so dominated by Tony. He kept going until he had rounded the large desk, gripped Tony’s hand and tugged him over to the couch in the corner, a large grey sectional, tasteless and bland. Tony went willingly, his warm hand staying in Stephen’s once they sat, and all at once Stephen was pressing himself against Tony, desperate to feel skin, to feel his pulse thrumming as he tucked his face into Tony’s neck, to remind himself that he wasn’t alone, that they were alright, that he had at least saved somebody in the end.

Stephen was no stranger to death of course, both at his own hands and from personal experience. After experiencing a thousand deaths at the hands of Dormammu he felt he could accurately say that the deaths that befell his own patients were a hundred times worse to experience. But when he was at the surgery, those failures only pushed him to be better, to study more, to practice more, to innovate more. Now, as much as he practices spells and stands vigil it seemed inevitable that something would slip his notice and he was plagued with this premonition of further failure.

So, Stephen stayed there, hid from his problems in the safety of Tony’s arms even as he berated himself for his selfishness. Tony was exhausted and dealing with his own guilt, as unfounded as it was, the last thing he needed was to deal with Stephen’s as well. Tony’s fingers skated gently through his hair, there was the even rise and fall of his chest, puffs of air on his head, Tony’s hand in his and Stephen was so grateful for this little sanctuary.

“You know,” Tony murmured. “I don’t blame you…or Wong for what happened.”

Stephen wanted to tell him he should, but he knew the response that would get him, so instead he responded in kind, “yet, you are more then willing to blame yourself.”

“Its part of my brand.” He tried to joke, but Stephen could hear the misery underlaying his tone.

Stephen didn’t respond, silence reigned between them as Tony continued his soothing ministrations. Then, out of nowhere and a little too desperate for Stephen’s liking, he spoke again. “I’m tired of it you know. I…this sucks sometimes and I keep asking myself why does it have to be us? Why can’t we just leave it all behind and live normal lives? I’m not saying I regret my choice to be Ironman, but sometimes I want something different.”

Stephen’s breath caught. He was frozen for a moment, not because of the admission itself but because it was so spot on to how Stephen felt day in and day out. He knew the answers to those questions of course, if they walked away there was no one to take their place, not yet. It was also all they knew, as much as they might hate it right now, the adrenalin of the fight would always win out. But that didn’t stop either of them from yearning.

Carefully, Stephen pulled back and Tony’s hand fell from his hair down to rest on his neck, right where it met his shoulder. The man still looked exhausted, of course he did, but there was something else there now too, relief it seems. Stephen had been worrying him more then he thought these past few days.

Stephen leaned forward until he could press his forehead to Tony’s, eyes closed and breath ghosting across each other’s faces. Tony’s hand was still clasped in his own, the grip exceedingly gentle around his scarred and trembling fingers. “Let’s do that.” He murmured.

“Do what?” Tony whispered back, unmoving from their position.

Stephen swallowed thickly, clenched his eyes shut, unsure of the answer he would get. “Let’s pretend, just for a little while, just for tonight.”

Tony did pull back then, and Stephen was forced to open his eyes, assess his lover. Tony was searching his face earnestly and he struggled not to just take it back, this wasn’t like him usually. But that off kilter feeling was making him act irrational.

Something warm and intense slipped into Tony’s eyes as though he was as hungry for it as Stephen was, he nodded. “Yeah. Yes. We can do that.”

Tears pricked Stephen’s eyes and he stood abruptly, unwilling to give them time to gather. He tugged Tony up with him who had a soft little smile now. Stephen glanced at the clock above the desk and sighed in relief. Wordlessly, he opened a portal and gestured for Tony to go through, the man raised an eyebrow, but Stephen just inclined his head.

And just like that the two of them were stepping out onto a long stretch of abandoned California beach, their shoes sinking in the sand and the sun just beginning its daily descent. There was the slightest of breezes, gifting them with smell of salty ocean air, so different from Tony’s claustrophobic office, and the gentle swell of waves in front of them left Stephen feeling astonishingly renewed.

There was a light squeeze around his hand and he looked over at Tony who was fully grinning for the first time in weeks and Stephen felt his spirit soar at finally doing something right. Then Tony was leaning down and quickly removing his shoes and socks, which Stephen copied immediately, his eyes falling closed at the feeling of rough sand between his toes.

“Come on.”

Tony was already moving forward, even as the sun continued its steady descent. Stephen followed until the reached the edge of the water, their toes sinking into mud and just like that it all began to drift away. The faces, the names, the panic, the pain, the desperation, faded so he could focus right here, right now, because this didn’t hurt, this was good.

They barely spoke, instead sharing smiles and warm loving looks as they walked. Eventually, just as the sun’s descent finally lit the sky up in a brilliant display of reds, pinks, and orange, they found a place to sit on the sand, watching, bodies pressed tightly to one another.

The sight took Stephen’s breath away, the beauty filling his mind in a rush, the smell and sound of the ocean overwhelming his senses and Stephen could do it, sitting there listening to Tony talk about everything and nothing like he sometimes did, he didn’t feel like a superhero or a sorcerer. He was just a man, just another person of millions scurrying around this planet, watching the same sun that shined down on everyone, pressed against the love of his life. He was insignificant and just for the moment, he allowed himself to revel selfishly in the feeling of freedom.

**Author's Note:**

> Something short and sweet after that ridiculously long one I posted last night. Let me know what you think :)


End file.
